Seeing Red in the Dark
by brwneyes1324
Summary: Sequel piece to "Thicker than Red Water" Best if you read that one, as it sets up everything done here! Cho's lover is in trouble, and just a hint of Jisbon at the end. Adult situations.
1. Blind Memory

**Chapter 1—Blind Memory**

The roughness of the bandage wrapped around his eyes did nothing to make Patrick Jane feel better. He didn't even really understand why the nurses had put it around his head anyway. His eyes were physically fine, no cuts or abrasions, so why dress him in a bad imitation of Boris Karloff? Jane felt himself frown in irritation. Lisbon and Cho had left just moments before.

The scent of bad coffee and astringent wafted into his room as the door opened, heavy footsteps headed to his bed.

"Good morning, Mr. Jane," a cheerful female voice said, "Just checking on your IV. Is there anything I can get for you?"

Jane grunted and turned away from the voice. He flinched when the nurse started to adjust his pillow. He waved his arm out blindly and solidly impacted a warm body with sudden force.

"Hey," the nurse uttered in surprise.

"You should know better than to startle a blind man," Jane snapped. "Just because you have a god-complex."

"What?" the nurse sounded a little irritated.

"You heard me," Jane growled, batting away the person he couldn't see. "You became a nurse because you want to feel powerful, in control. Having someone helpless completely depend on you gets you off in the morning. "

"Mr. Jane, that is completely uncalled for," the nurse snarled after a moment.

"No, you scaring a helpless blind man is what is completely uncalled for. Now go away!" Jane's voice dripped with irritation.

Angry silence, and then the sound of angry footsteps and a muttered insult reached him as the nurse slammed his room door closed. Patrick contemplated the inky blackness of his world. The muffled sounds of people walking by his room and the drone of some inane daytime soap opera on the TV reached his ears. In sudden frustration, he pulled the bandage off his head and threw it in the general direction of the wall. He hated this, hated being helpless and hurt, this feeling of being useless and not in control.

Four hours later, he had managed to insult just about everyone on the floor, annoyed three nurses with his cantankerous demands, and made a harmless woman who was just passing by cry. The horrid mess they had tried to tell him was food was on the floor, and he lay in bed sulking slightly after that insufferable doctor had come in to reprimand him for his behavior. He finally tore himself free of his blankets, felt his way toward his clothes and got dressed. The world remained dark, and he tried to ignore the unsettling sensation of feeling his eyes moving without sight. He fumbled for the walking stick the physical therapist had given him. The nursing staff gave only a token effort to keep him from leaving.

A quick conversation with Officer Powel led to a ride back to CBI headquarters, and Patrick Jane immediately felt a little better, more in control when the elevator doors opened and the familiar scents and sounds reached him. He didn't even mind when Lisbon called him out for his behavior. He'd never admit it out loud, but the fact that Lisbon caught on to so many of his stunts delighted him. He craved a clever audience, and even when she was mad at him, Lisbon could be counted on to appreciate his performances.

Later that evening, Van Pelt was running his client list against the Lynch-Halstead records when a name from his past drew him up short.

Carol Gentry.

The name conjured the image of red hair and over large, sad eyes. A woman about 20 pounds overweight, but still attractive in a homey sort of way. When Jane stood up, he felt the blood rush from his head too late to do anything more than wilt to floor. A soft grunt escaped as he crashed to the ground, and he never even heard Van Pelt calling out his name.

But even passing out didn't spare him from the ghost of Carol Gentry.


	2. Ghosts

**Chapter 2—Ghosts**

**8 years ago, Jane residence.**

"Who is left on the schedule today?" Patrick Jane asked, looking out over the Malibu surf outside his window. His golden curls were restrained by an expensive haircut and gel, his charcoal tailored suit polished and professional, silk silver tie matching perfectly. He admired the view of the beach and sipped his tea.

"New client," a dark eyed woman replied. Gemma Patrick was typing away at his database, quickly entering his notes on the sessions for today's appointments.

"Really?" Jane turned to look at his companion. "Where's this new one from?"

Gemma glanced up and smiled. "You said you wanted more high-end clientele. So I had you buy me a very expensive guest pass to that new spa that just opened up last month. Dropped a few hints, mentioned how great you were at my reading, the usual stuff. I tried to pull the 3 most promising women in the mud room. The spa gives a very nice massage and facial package also, by the way. Free pedicure for repeat business."

Jane smiled at the younger woman, the laugh lines around his eyes appearing. "When did I do that? Sparky, I should give you a raise," he said with a laugh. "You do wonders for my prospects when you hit those places."

"You did give me a raise," Gemma replied. "Unfortunately, it has all went to pay my tuition."

"You could come work for me, full-time," Jane offered for the hundredth time. Gemma just shook her head with a grin.

"You can barely afford me part-time as it is, Janey," Gemma replied archly. "Besides, I like the thought of being a veterinarian. This is just a hobby. A real psychic would know that."

Jane laughed and turned back to his view. He spotted one of his daughter's toys forgotten under the raised white deck and wondered if he needed to fire someone on the landscaping staff. "Well, tell me about her,"

"A woman named Carol Gentry," Gemma said. "She is single, 36 years old, never married and hasn't ever lived apart from her mother who died last month. No other family that I can find on the background check."

"Money?"

"Family money from the mother. Shipping interests going back nearly 50 years," Gemma replied.

The blond man nodded in satisfaction, blue eyes thoughtful as he started planning the encounter. She had a recently dead, probably controlling mother and the need for closure. Promising place to start.

"Anything else?"

"Well," Gemma said hesitantly.

He turned and looked into her midnight eyes. "What is it?"

Gemma shook her head. "There is something off kilter about her. She needs closure about something, but I couldn't quite make it out. Very mixed signals. Be careful with this one, Janey. I don't think she is entirely stable. I tried to steer her away, but she latched on to the idea of seeing you so intently, it was kind of scary."

"Steer her away? Why would you do that?" Jane asked in surprise.

"She's off, Janey," Gemma said patiently. "Carol Gentry is the kind of mark that can go very wrong, very fast. You are good, Janey, but sometimes it's best to just not play with fire."

"Meh," Jane said, waving off her concerns. "The deck, I think. Feels like the perfect place for a psychic reading today."

Gemma just shook her head with an amused smile, and went to tell the maid to set up on the deck. Jane sipped his tea, and wondered if he could finish in time to surprise his wife and take her out to dinner. There was a cute little bistro up the beach that had been seemed particularly appealing.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

"_She was a vicious, evil, abusive woman, but I loved her!" Carol Gentry all but wailed._

Patrick Jane slowly opened his eyes, and looked at his newest client. Damn it, he thought, how do I fix this? If he didn't, this woman could go back to that spa and ruin everything.

As the person in front of him sputtered in confused hurt, his mind furiously worked. Closure, he thought, she wanted closure but not forgiveness. Damn it, he should have paid more attention, not been thinking about taking his wife out to dinner!

"It's a hard truth, Carol, but people don't change after death," Jane said soothingly, launching into one of his salvage operations. After sending her away with the implied promise of another session later, he took a deep drink of the refreshing lemon water, then tossed the contents over the side of the deck. Carol Gentry's barely touched glass followed suit, and then he grimaced slightly, wondering just where he went wrong on this one.

A hint of bronze in her skin tone from the California sun, Gemma stepped out onto the shaded deck and leaned over the edge. Her chocolate gaze followed the Gentry woman, a small crease of worry between her brows as she watched her get into her car. This one gave her an uneasy feeling.

"Messed that one up," Gemma stated casually to the still seated man as the other woman drove off.

Jane shrugged. "She's the last one for today?"

Gemma nodded as she gazed into the ocean, listening to the faint cry of gulls and the swell of the surf. Patrick looked at the poised young woman, her short black curls being played with by the ocean wind. Her dark, almond shaped eyes, lithe runner's frame and coppery skin made her seem a refreshingly exotic but approachable beauty, a rare thing in a city renowned for its almost manufactured physical perfection. With her melodious voice and alert eyes, she could cut a swath through the high-end primping and pampering establishments that catered to his preferred clientele. He suddenly wondered why she wasn't married, or at least dating someone. Her last boyfriend had been almost 3 years ago.

"Hey, you mind playing auntie for the night?" Jane asked instead. "I've got dinner plans."

Two mornings later, Patrick Jane walked into his kitchen so see his wife trying to feed their young daughter, who was more interested in watching her breakfast go splat on the floor. Jane kissed his little girl on the head and rubbed his wife's shoulder. Gemma walked in, still slightly sweaty from her morning run, and was holding his morning paper. Jane smiled slightly, knowing all the puzzles would be solved by the end of breakfast and leaving none for him.

"Morning," Gemma said as she fell carelessly into a chair and snagged a pastry from the table. She eyed her niece, one eyebrow arching slightly and a little smile tugged at her lips. "I see breakfast is going as planned."

"For her, anyway," his wife replied. "You headed back today?"

"Yeah," Gemma mumbled through her breakfast, opening the paper. She pulled out her preferred sections and passed the rest to the waiting Jane. "My next rotation starts day after tomorrow. Large animals. I'm looking forward to it."

As Jane leafed through the society section of the paper, a pair of over large, sad eyes caught his attention. He quickly read the article, and then stared off into space for a moment.

Both women noticed his change in mood.

"What's wrong?" his wife asked. Jane just looked at his wife for a moment, and then slid the paper toward Gemma without looking. She took it with a little frown.

"One of my clients committed suicide yesterday," Jane said. He stood up and put his teacup in the sink. He felt his chest tighten, the day suddenly less bright and promising.

"Oh, no," his wife said. "I'm so sorry, honey. Did you know them long?"

Jane shook his head, swallowing against the sudden dryness in his throat. "No, she just had the one session." He turned and leaned heavily against the sink. "The reading did not go well."

"Honey," his wife said in concern and came over to hug him, "This can't be your fault. People who do this kind of thing, they will do it no matter what happens."

He let himself be comforted by his wife, and looked over to Gemma, his willing accomplice is this debacle. Gemma, however, held her head in her hand, the fingers of her other hand tracing over the picture declaring the death of one Carol Gentry, 36 years old, no family. Her stricken eyes finally rose to meet his.

Jane opened his mouth to say something, but just what he didn't know.

"I, uh, have to go," Gemma interrupted before he could speak, then stood up and headed for the door. "I need a shower, and it's a long drive back."

"Sparks?" his wife called after her in concern. "You okay?"

"Sure, I'm fine," the dark woman replied. "I will call you guys later," she said as she fled the kitchen.

Looking back, that was the day Gemma Patrick gave up her "hobby" as she called it. She never went back to those spas and boutiques, giving away any passes and gift cards she got as gifts like they were toxic. Two years later, Patrick helped her buy a small veterinary practice in rural upstate California, smack in the middle of nowhere. She bought a house Jane never saw, and seemed to fade into her own little world.

Patrick's last image of her that day was seeing her turn and fall against the wall just outside the kitchen doorway, looking up to the ceiling as she took a deep breath. Then she was gone.


	3. Chosen Confessions

**Chapter 3-Chosen Confessions**

**Present day, a few months later.**

It was Kimball Cho and Gemma Patrick's fourth meal together since Jane had played surreptitious matchmaker 3 months ago. She had come to Sacramento for a conference and went to visit the CBI, to see Jane in his new life. Now, it was hard for Cho to imagine not having known Gemma for his entire life, despite the fact he had first laid eyes on her a mere 7 months ago. They didn't spend a lot of time together in person, but they had started talking on the phone and leaving short emails for each other after that first meal. Just cheery little tidbits about their day, petty complaints and generally letting each other know they were thought of. Cho hadn't fallen this hard for someone since college, and he thought maybe it was the same for her. They fit well together, in a lot of ways, neither one pushing the other but drawing slowly and inevitably closer.

Cho liked it that way. Ever since high school, his family had been pushing him to pair off, to get married to a nice Chinese girl and have nice Chinese children. Even the occasional stranger tried to play matchmaker. They didn't understand that he wanted something more than just a wife; he wanted an equal. Gemma Patrick might just be that person, but it was much too early to tell. Cho wondered if anyone in her little town appreciated what a clever and kind woman she really was.

Gemma's face was open and relaxed as she laughed at Cho's re-telling of the aftermath of a blind Patrick Jane trying to drive Van Pelt's jeep. His deadpan descriptions of Jane's sheepish and patently insincere expression as one after another of CBI workers arrived for an explanation of just why their cars had been used in an impromptu bumper car tournament in the parking lot was cracking her up. From the corner of his eye, Cho noticed the occasional lingering look at the dark haired, carelessly elegant woman in jeans and a loose blouse. It gave him a very male sense of satisfaction.

Eventually he started to talk about the case that started the whole thing, and Gemma didn't act bored or ghoulishly interested. She asked insightful questions, and was genuinely interested. A bit miffed that Patrick hadn't called her, but then again, it was just before they had re-connected. That's when he mentioned that one of their first suspects had been a client of Jane's who had committed suicide years before.

Gemma stopped munching on her salad, and looked off into the distance for a moment. A strange look of mourning crossed her face, and her dark eyes looked shadowed.

"Carol Gentry," Gemma said softly.

Cho's eyes widened in surprise. "How did you know that?"

Gemma brushed the hair back from her face and re-fastened her hair clip, a gesture he was beginning to associate with emotional distress. She sighed.

"I used to work for Janey," she said. "It was kind of like my part time job while I was in school. A way for him to give me extra money without it feeling like a hand-out or a gift all the time."

Cho blinked. "What did you do for him? What kind of work?"

"Oh, lots of different things," Gemma replied, starting to eat again. "But mostly I found his clients."

"You found his clients," Cho repeated stupidly. He had always wondered how Jane set up his scam.

Gemma's eyes twinkled. "What, you think he did it all by himself? The TV shows, the performances, the magazine interviews, yeah, that was all him. But the real clients, the people who came over and over and paid handsomely for the privilege, they aren't so easy to find. They have to be cultivated, approached the right way, set up so when the line comes, they take it hook, line and sinker. No questions asked. And that was my job."

"How?" Cho asked, intrigued.

"It's not hard, really. Just takes timing and being able to read what people want." Gemma explained. "It starts with choosing your target population, your hunting grounds as it were. Janey wanted a select clientele, people with enough money to leave common sense behind. All doughy and malleable inside. So where would you go?"

Cho thought about it. "Someplace exclusive." He mused out loud. "Like one of the hot night clubs."

"Not bad," Gemma said, "but, remember, you are setting up a long game. So it needs to be someplace you can socialize, talk. Get to know someone, someplace where they will trust you just because you are there."

"Spas!" Cho snapped his fingers. "I bought my mother a gift certificate to one, and she came back talking about all these women she met like they were old friends."

Gemma raised her water glass in mock salute. "Very good," she congratulated him. "Spas and resorts, exclusive vacation spots. That was my hunting ground. I started with women. Women love Janey. So I used the money he earned from his shows to shop where that kind of woman did, to dress like them and become one of them. I was 17 and pretty, no one was looking at me with suspicion. Then I went to the day-spas. I became a fixture, and then Patrick Jane's gate-keeper. "

"A gate-keeper?" Cho asked. "I don't understand."

"It's group psychology," Gemma replied. "If you set something up to be selective, automatically people see it as valuable. I'd introduce a rich, gossipy woman to Patrick. He would work his charm, give her exactly what she wanted and just a hint of what she thought she didn't, really get her believing in him. She would then go back, wax enthusiastic about it and gloat a little that she got in, and her friends didn't. Her friends would want in, and I had to play a careful game to make sure it became an honor to be accepted for a reading. They all knew I was related to him somehow, but thought of me as one of their own, so I was a trustworthy link."

"Eventually, these women started asking me to their parties and get togethers," Gemma continued. "That is when I met their fathers and husbands. It was challenging to get the men to Janey. My youth and looks worked against me then. They didn't want to admit they believed in something as silly as a psychic. To them, it had to be very selective and very, very discrete, but more importantly, advantageous. No Fortune 500 mogul or big movie producer wants it known he has a spiritual advisor on his payroll, but also he would do anything to get an edge. It took me over a year to get one of those men to take a reading. Janey, of course, nailed it. After that it gained critical mass. I was going off to college, so Janey and I groomed a few select clients to act as new gatekeepers."

"So you met Carol Gentry at one of your fishing expeditions," Cho stated.

"Yeah. Janey didn't really need me so much anymore, but you have to keep the fish fresh as it were," Gemma replied. "So I would still go out, reel in one or two a month. And one day I our paths finally crossed. There was guilt and rage, anger and hurt, all the things I expected and could deal with. But a thread of maliciousness, too, that didn't belong. I couldn't get a good read of her, it was so confusing. I don't think even she understood. It was like she wanted answers more than anything, but also to keep resenting her mother. Maybe she didn't know how to live her life without that dynamic anymore."

The Asian man just waited, his expression patient and understanding, offering no judgment. It was the face he used when interviewing families, the one that encouraged people to keep talking. He had learned as a teenager that people felt an urge to talk in the face of silence. Silence and active listening on his part made others fill the stillness. But with Gemma Patrick, it was softer, more invested.

The dark haired woman brushed her hair back from her face, a lock curling around her ear. She swallowed against a dry throat, then took a sip of water before continuing.

"I tried to send her away. But to be honest, I could have tried harder. I should have sent her to some two-bit hack that would screw up so badly she would never believe in psychics again. She was that fragile, and I knew it. Instead, I brought her in and sent her to Jane. Carol Gentry was a woman of hatred and love, despair and relief all in a Gordian knot. And when Janey cut that knot…well. "

Kimball Cho reached out and took Gemma's hand in his, unable to bear the pain in her expression. She turned her own palm, accepting his gesture. Tilting her head, she smiled at him.

"Why do I tell you these things?" she asked him with a strained smile. "I've never told anyone about Carol Gentry. Not even Janey."

Cho looked deep into her dark eyes, and just smiled, his dimples showing. "You tell Jane just about everything," he replied finally, unable to answer her question.

"Yeah, I suppose I do," Gemma laughed gently. "We are so alike in so many ways. But we've grown apart these last five years, and it makes me sad. I worry that I won't get him back once he finds Red John."

The moment was broken when the waitress brought their food, settling the plates on the table with brisk efficiency. Once settled, they began to eat.

"So, is that when you gave up helping Jane?" Cho asked.

Gemma shrugged. "I just couldn't do it anymore," Gemma said. "I went to a resort to pull a new client, and everywhere I turned it was like Carol Gentry was looking at me. Before, it was kind of fun, you know? Afterward, it wasn't. I had messed up, and woman was now dead."

"So it was just for thrills," Cho said, oddly disappointed.

Gemma shook her head with a sigh. "Yes and no. I mean, I had been manipulating people in one way or another since I was a child. My own mother taught me to pick pockets and roll dice starting when I was five years old! I learned to work the con the way other children learned to ride bicycles and play with dolls."

She caught Cho's eyes. "Look, you know what Patrick Jane did before he came to work for the CBI. It was just part of the world I grew up in, and I made the best of it. I never really wanted to follow that life style. It's why I went to college, then graduate school, to be someone different, and Janey helped me. But I never saw anything wrong with it either. It's not like I was picking their pockets or stealing their retirement funds. We never held a gun to anyone's head. People _cooperated_ with us, and we made it clear they could walk away at anytime."

Cho chewed his food thoughtfully. He actually believed that there was more in the world than could be touched and felt. Whether it was God or karma, mystical forces or something he didn't even know to name, he didn't know. That didn't mean he automatically believed in psychics and witchcraft, because his time as a police officer had shown more than a few charlatans. One of his own co-workers was an admitted fake psychic after all. But it also meant he didn't automatically disbelieve either. It hurt a little to hear it broken down into angles and cold math.

"Did you ever help anyone?" The question slipped out before he could help himself. Gemma's dark eyes gazed into him. She saw that her rather analytical and distressingly cold description of working people over had shaken his faith in his friend, perhaps even her. And Cho didn't like it. Her explanations really did make them both seem like cynical and ruthless con artists. Unfortunately, that was all too close to the truth.

"Surprisingly, we did. More often than you would think," Gemma replied. She laughed a little to herself in rueful appreciation of the irony. "People need closure. And sometimes that means giving forgiveness or saying what they've always needed to say. Sometimes people need a lie to show them the truth."

"How can a lie show someone the truth?" Cho challenged as he walked her out the door. It was almost time to go back to work. He dared to put his arm around her waist, and Gemma didn't pull away.

"You know the answer to that," Gemma said softly. "You see it in action every time Patrick Jane pulls one of his stunts, every time you youself deceive a suspect in interogation. It's all lies. But what happens in the end? You get the bad guy. The truth comes out. Cases get closed."

Cho nodded slowly. He looked at Gemma again, noting the faint sadness around her mouth, but the calm acceptance of her past. Something akin to wisdom swam in the depths of her brown eyes, and he decided to take a chance. He leaned forward, and placed his lips to hers. He felt her smile as his eyes slipped closed, appreciating the soft, welcoming taste of her kiss. It was like seeing red in the dark, and together, they found that closure didn't have to mean the end.


	4. Plans

**_Author's Note: As I mentioned at the end of "Thicker than Red Water" there are more stories to be told. Since this one had a decent start, I figured I'd continue here._**

**Chapter 4--Plans**

Kimball Cho wasn't really sure where he had lost control of the situation. But he had, and the cause was an unexpectedly loving raven-haired woman curled at his side. Her bare skin was warm against his own where she lay stretched out against him, one hand on his exposed chest, her breath warm against his shoulder. Her legs were curled around his, and he absently stroked the soft silk of her hair, smoothing the tangles created by their lovemaking. He couldn't keep the smile from his face, dimples flashing, when her hand started to lightly tickle his upper stomach, and he caught her hand with his. Fingers entwined, he felt her sigh of contentment.

"Is this going to get you in trouble?" Gemma asked, looking up at her lover's face. She liked the way that phrase sounded in her mind. "Weren't you supposed to go back to work?"

"Maybe, but probably not," Cho replied. "Lisbon knew I was going to meet someone for a long lunch, and said she'd call me if something came up. I do have to go back, but I think we have a little more time."

"Really?" Gemma said, mischief in her eyes. She suddenly swung herself around, straddling him. His body reacted to the nearness of her naked form, his hands running up her thighs as she leaned down to lightly kiss his forehead. "Time enough for this?"

Cho smiled and nodded. She kissed his nose, then his cheek, trailing feather light kisses along the side of his face and down his neck, each time asking "Time enough for this?" Her hands set fire to him, the taste of her skin intoxicated him, and when she shuddered above him, he was nearly undone. He turned her over, breathing heavy and feeling the rub of their sweat slicked skin against each other. He moaned something nearly primal, and she gave a low, satisfied laugh as he reached his own release.

"You are incredible, you know that, Gem?" Cho panted. Gemma just gave a wide grin, and caressed his hair.

"You aren't so bad yourself, Kim," She replied and kissed him soundly. "But you are going to be in trouble if we don't stop."

Cho nodded reluctantly, and got up. When he came out of his bathroom, and started to put his clothes back on, he saw Gemma sitting up in his bed, a sheet draped lightly for modesty, more habit than embarrassment. She smiled at him as she tried to bring her hair back into some kind of order.

"Janey doesn't know why I'm here today," she said suddenly. Cho gave her a quizzical look, asking the question silently. "You know that conference I came to a few months ago?"

"Yeah," Cho said, pulling on his shoes.

"Well, I met an old friend from school there," Gemma said. "She works at the UC Davis Veterinary School here in Sacramento. They need a large animal instructor and vet for their research department. They have offered me a job. I came down to hear their offer today."

Cho stopped what he was doing and looked at Gemma. She had an oddly shy, hopeful look on her face.

"Gem, you don't have to come just for me," Cho said. "I know how much you love your life up there in the middle of nowhere. I'm not asking for anything."

Gemma got a look of amused affront. "Kim, I may be falling in love with you, but I've never done anything in my life that I didn't want to do. I didn't for my own br.…Janey, and certainly not for you alone!"

Cho's heart lurched a little at her statement, and he almost missed her slip. But he decided to let that go, for now. "Then why?"

Gemma shifted and sat on the edge of the bed. "I'm not content there anymore," she said softly. "I was, but then Janey shows up again, and then you throw my comfortable little life for a loop. It's too quiet now. I think I've done what I needed to do up there. What do you think of me coming back to civilization?"

Cho pulled her close and kissed her. "I would love it," he said honestly. "Whatever you decide, is good enough for me. But what about your practice, you town? They need you."

Gemma gave him a quick hug before getting up to dress herself. "I'm not worried about that. There is a new vet in the county, Dennis. Fresh out of school. There isn't enough business to support two practices, and Dennis is struggling. I bought an existing practice, and made damn sure I had the sound financial planning to survive late payments and free care. Dennis is starting from scratch, and can't afford to be lenient on fees. So people are starting to come back to me. But if I sell Dennis my practice, and he doesn't screw up the books, I can make a tidy profit and Dennis can have the practice he wants."

With her own shirt back on, Gemma padded barefoot up to Cho and helped him fix his tie.

"Sounds like you have made up your mind already," Cho pointed out. Gemma just shrugged.

"Maybe. Janey and I are going out for dinner tonight," Gemma said, watching Cho put his badge and gun back on his belt. "We have some business to discuss anyway. He probably won't want me moving here. It's too close to him."

At that Cho, decided he needed answers. He took a deep breath, and turned a serious look at the woman who was slowly but surely becoming his world. "I haven't asked, because you two obviously don't want to talk about it. But I need to know what your relationship with Patrick is. Why does it matter so much to you, what Patrick Jane thinks and does?"

Gemma sighed, but she had known this moment was coming. Cho was a police officer, trained to ferret out answers and solve puzzles. The fact that she and Jane were doing their best to stay a mystery was just riling up his instincts, and Gemma knew it was inevitable that he ask.

"No one can know, Kim," Gemma said as she sat back on the bed. "I think Janey's sanity might depend on that a little bit, and I know my life does."

"How?" Cho asked, taken aback at that statement. Everyone knew Jane was little unstable, but to have to woman who seemed to know him best declare his sanity so fragile was a shock.

"Red John," Gemma whispered, her voice husky with suppressed anger and fear. "Red John will kill me if he finds out, just to torment Patrick. He killed our family to because Patrick's arrogance insulted him, but he'll kill me for the sadistic pleasure of breaking Patrick Jane once and for all."

"Why?" Cho asked, eyes intent as he knelt at Gemma feet. Gemma caressed Cho's face.

"I'm all the family he has left in the world," Gemma said. "He's my brother."

Kimball Cho had seen a lot in his life, and thought little could surprise him, but this came out of nowhere and hit him in the gut. Patrick Jane had a sister, Cho was her lover and she lived in fear of a serial killer finding her because she was a way to hurt her brother. He realized just how much danger both he and Jane put her in. She was linked to Jane already, and now doubly so with her relationship to Cho. The secret keeping her alive was already in danger, just because Cho couldn't stop kissing her.

"You can't come back," Cho said firmly. "It's too dangerous. Red John knows way too much, and we don't know how he does it. He's hacked into the secure servers already, been spying on us. Who knows what else he can do?"

"I'm tired of living my life as a shadow because of some psycho," Gemma said angrily. "I want my life back! My life! Not yours or Jane's, but mine."

"It's too dangerous," Cho said stubbornly. Gemma took a deep breath, bringing her temper back under control.

"Look, nothing has been decided yet," Gemma pointed out calmly. "I'm going to talk to Janey tonight at dinner. I'm not going to do anything rash. You need to go back to work, my dearest. We can talk about this later," and her firm tone left no room for argument.

Cho's lips narrowed, but he nodded anyway. One thing he had realized about Gemma Patrick was that she didn't respond well to ultimatums and was almost defiantly independent. She was willing to be reasoned with, but only on her terms. He touched her hair and gave her a soft kiss, then left his apartment and returned to work.

He needed to talk to Patrick Jane, and stop this before it got any further. Gemma would not appreciate it, but he'd rather her angry than dead.


	5. the past comes stalking

**_Author's Note: This is one of the ideas that came to me in my long, endlessly boring 3 day drive accross country. I hope I can pull it off as well as it played in my head on miles of endless highway!_**

**Chapter 5— The past comes stalking**

The CBI building bustled with activity, and Cho slipped in almost unnoticed. Van Pelt gave him a brief smile in greeting and Rigsby offered a nod. Lisbon was in her office, but it was Patrick Jane who was the center of attention. For once, he wasn't distracting the Serious Crimes Unit, but was showing the organized crime guys a card trick. Cho waited impatiently for them to wander off, and approached the blond man.

Today, he looked tired. It was a cyclical thing, Cho had noticed, when the circles under Jane's eyes got more prominent and his hair more unruly. His smile never seemed to waver, and his energy undimmed, but the entire team had learned to be wary when the bleariness appeared around Jane's eyes. He was most likely to do something particularly insulting or rash if the insomnia went on too long. Lisbon especially was sensitive to it, and it was for that reason that she let him sleep on the couch as often as he did. Jane at anytime could be unpredictable, but a tired Jane could be reckless.

"Jane, I need to talk to you, man," Cho said, and Jane gave him a quizzical smile. Cho tilted his head, and led Jane into an empty conference room, shutting the door. Jane perched himself on the table, and waited.

"Listen, Gemma came by today," Cho started, refusing to be embarrassed by the fleeting memory of her bare skin under his lips. This was more important.

"I know. You two had lunch," Jane replied. "How's that going, anyway? You two?"

"Fine, we're fine," Cho replied quickly. "Do you know why she came up to Sacramento today?"

Jane actually looked a little uncomfortable. "Yes. We need to go over some business arrangements. Nothing too complicated."

Cho sighed, and looked quickly out the window. Everyone else in the bullpen appeared to be engrossed in whatever they were doing, ignoring their little meeting.

"No, that isn't the only reason," Cho said. "I can't believe I'm telling you this, but she got a job offer at the university. She is thinking of moving here, to Sacramento."

Jane sat straight up in surprise. "You are joking? Please tell me you are joking."

"I wish I was, man," Cho said. He paused a minute, debating whether or not to say anything, but lying or hiding the truth just wasn't in his nature. "Look, she told me everything today. I know why this is such a bad idea."

The blond man gave Cho a serious, penetrating look. Cho actually saw the flash of fear in Jane's eyes. "Then how could you let this happen?"

"I didn't even know about it until today," Cho defended himself. "I tried to tell her she couldn't, but, umm, that didn't go over too well."

Jane smiled involuntarily, unconsciously rubbing at the small scar over his left eye. Telling Gemma what she could and could not do often did not go over well.

"She must be growing up," Jane said. "At least she didn't draw blood this time. Did she throw anything?"

"What? No," Cho said in surprise. He paused. "Does she do that?"

"Hmm, she must have been expecting your reaction then," Jane mused. "And yes, she does."

He stood up and straightened his coat. "Thank you for giving me a heads up, Cho. Sparky…well, you know Sparky. A little bit more than I'm comfortable knowing about," Jane added with a sly look and left the room.

Cho felt his mouth gape open. "Dammit, Lisbon's right. You are uncanny yet irritating" he muttered as he went back to work, fighting with all his might not to blush.

Jane, meanwhile, headed downstairs. He gave a distracted smile to the woman in the elevator with him, and made his way outside into the warm, sunny day. A few minutes later found him walking in circles around a four block radius around the CBI building, lost in thought. The gentle breeze tugged at this curls, and his blue eyes were dark with memory and a shadow of unease.

Lisbon opened her office door, and found Cho was back at his desk.

"Glad you decided to come back to work, Agent Cho," she said teasingly.

"I need the money," he replied impassively, making Lisbon smile.

"Here, this is for you," Lisbon said as she tossed a file to the Asian man. He opened it, and frowned a little. "We just got the call."

"This is Charlie Gitmore's file," Cho said in confusion.

"Charlie Gitmore? Who is that?" Van Pelt asked. Rigsby came over and looked at the file over Cho's shoulder.

"Slime bag," Cho replied tersely.

"Yes, he is," Lisbon agreed. "Unfortunately, he's a slime bag with a good lawyer."

"Says here he got 25 years for the kidnapping and rape of a college co-ed," Rigsby said. Grace started typing, running a check in her endless databases.

"And we suspected him in at least 2 more," Cho said. "But we could never prove it."

"His lawyer got him out on a technicality a couple weeks ago," Lisbon said, her brow furrowed. "Said the DNA evidence was tainted and mishandled. He was released to house arrest pending a new trial."

"Dammit," Cho said under his breath. Rigsby and Van Pelt looked at their compact colleague in surprise at his vehemence.

"It took us nearly 6 months to nail the bastard," Lisbon explained. "He was careful, never left any DNA, covered his face and drugged his victims so they couldn't remember everything clearly. His victims thought he filmed the attacks, but we could never find the tapes. We finally got him when his last victim bit him, and we found his blood under her nails. He went into an emergency room with an infected bite a couple days later."

"Even Jane was stumped?" Grace said incredulously.

Lisbon shook her dark head. "This was almost 6 years ago now, many months before Jane joined the team. Before Rigsby even. Speaking of which, where is Jane?" she asked, looking around.

"I don't know, boss," Grace said. "I saw him go down the elevator about 20 minutes ago." Lisbon sighed in irritation, but had no real reason to be upset. "Well, someone call him back. We have a case."

"Boss, what is the problem with Gitmore?" Cho asked.

"He has disappeared," Lisbon said. Cho slammed the folder, and Lisbon waved her hands to settle him down. "He somehow rigged his GPS anklet around the neck of his neighbor's cat. When he didn't answer his phone, the local PD went to his house but he was gone. Based on the amount of mail and the last time someone saw him, looks like he escaped about 2 days ago."

Lisbon looked at Rigsby and Van Pelt. "You two, consider yourselves on protective detail as of right now."

"Boss!" Cho protested.

"Cho, we are not taking the chance," Lisbon said firmly. "Gitmore has sent at least 5 explicit death threats to you, the last one was just last month. Now he's been unaccounted for who knows how long."

"Cho has gotten death threats?" Grace asked in surprised. "Why Cho?"

"Charlie Gitmore blames Cho for sending him to jail," Lisbon explained, while Cho leaned back in his chair, a look of irritation on his face. "He's a chauvinistic bastard and refuses to believe a woman could have had a part in catching him. He doesn't see me as a threat. Cho, on the other hand, is the man he blames for destroying his life and sending him to prison."

"Interesting," a golden voice said from behind Lisbon. "I've never understood why some men underestimate women. Women are usually much cleverer than the men around them."

Grace smiled slightly at the comment, while Rigsby looked a little insulted, but hid the expression when his glance slid by the red-haired beauty.

"Where the hell have you been?" Lisbon demanded.

"Did you miss me, Lisbon?" Jane asked with a cheeky grin. He handed her a coffee, then passed the remaining cups in the carrier he was holding around.

"Well, we have a case," Lisbon said, sipping her coffee in mollification. "Van Pelt, see what you can find out about Gitmore. This escape was well planned. He would need money, a place to stay, people to help him. Cho, Rigsby. I want the two of you to go over the original case, especially the forensics. Let's make sure we didn't miss something. Jane, you and I are going to talk to Gitmore's neighbors. I want a more exact timeline of when this escaped happened."

Lisbon moved to stand right in front of Cho, her posture challenging. "And this is an order, Cho. You are not to go anywhere without me, Rigsby or Van Pelt with you at all times, 24 hours a day until we catch this psycho again. Is that understood?"

Cho gave a curt nod, resigned to his fate. "Yes, boss."

"Good. Jane, let's go," Lisbon started to leave the room, when a confused looking courier wandered in. She slammed right into him, her coffee cup crumpling into her chest, spilling the brown liquid all over her pale mint green shirt. She gasped in shock as the hot liquid spread out on her chest.

"Oh, my god, I'm so sorry, ma'am!" the young courier stammered, reaching out to brush the liquid from her chest. Jane had to work very hard to suppress a smile when Lisbon forcefully slapped his hands away, and the kid blushed as he realized what he had done.

"What. Do. You. Want." Lisbon stated slowly, her glare enough to make hardened criminals weep. The poor kid paled. Cho and Rigsby suddenly looked very interested in their paperwork, and Van Pelt was frozen between astonishment and the urge to help her boss.

"I…I…I…" was all he could stutter, pinned under her unwavering glare.

"You have a delivery?" Jane broke in to save the kid. He handed Lisbon a few napkins from the last pizza order off Rigsby's desk, and she started to try to pat dry her ruined shirt, still glaring at the oaf who had spilled her coffee.

The pale courier had a trapped look in his eyes when he looked at Jane's amused blue eyes, and he wordlessly handed a large cardboard envelope to the consultant, who glanced at the name and handed it to Cho.

"I'm so sorry, ma'am. I promise, I'll pay for that!" the courier said, as Jane calmly caught his elbow and lead him away from his potential murderer and out the door.

"Doubtful," Jane said. "That is a $250 dollar shirt imported from Italy. I got it for her last Christmas."

When Jane came back a moment later, Lisbon was staring at Jane. "I thought we said the gifts should be less than $50!"

Jane shrugged and just smiled at her. "So I cheated. It looks beautiful on you. Now, I suggest you go and get out of that very expensive shirt. You have a spare in your office, in the bottom drawer of your filing cabinet. We need to get that soaking in warm water if we are ever going to get that stain out."

Jane waved at Grace, and got the red-headed woman to escort Lisbon to her office to get changed. He turned back, and watched Cho open the envelope.

"Wait! Get that courier back here!" Cho suddenly yelled out. Rigsby jumped, glanced at his partner's serious look and then rushed off before the courier disappeared. Lisbon poked her head out of her office at Cho's yell, still smoothing the bottom of her new clean shirt, Van Pelt behind her with the coffee stained garment.

"What is it?" Jane asked, and paled when he was handed some pictures. Lisbon walked up, and gave a soft curse when she saw the images.

There were a dozen pictures of Cho, leaving his house, entering the CBI building, even one at the grocery store over the last few days. But the ones that had Jane going white were the shots of Cho and Gemma at lunch, laughing. A couple of shots of them kissing outside the restaurant, and a few that caught a goodbye hug from Cho's apartment. Cho was wearing the exact same shirt and tie in the photos as he was that moment in the office.

"These are from today," Cho said huskily. He sat down hard, the pen in his hand breaking in his grip when he saw the last picture.

It was a close up of Gemma getting into her blue truck. A black circle was drawn around her head, and the words "Such a pretty thing" were scrawled along the bottom.


	6. Stolen

**Author's Note: Sorry this one took so long! I didn't like the first version and had to cut it make it flow a little better. Still not entirely happy with it, but then again, it does what is needed ;)**

**Chapter 6-Stolen**

"She isn't answering her cell phone," Jane said, his tone tightly controlled. He couldn't afford to panic, even as a cold thread of terror iced his veins. Cho was uncharacteristically frozen, and Lisbon was looking at both of them in concern.

"Van Pelt, see if you can track her phone," Lisbon ordered. Rigsby came back, holding the arm of the terrified courier. "Rigsby, find out where that envelope came from. And you two, my office. Now."

Jane and Cho exchanged a look and dutifully followed their petite boss. Once in the office, she closed the door and took a deep breath before facing them.

"I want to know what the hell is going here, right now," Lisbon demanded, her voice carefully calm despite her obvious ire.

"Gemma came down because she and I have to go over some business matters," Jane said, biting the inside of his lip.

Lisbon nodded, her eyes narrowed at her consultant for but for once convinced he wasn't lying or keeping something from her. Her green eyes were darkened as she turned them to stare at her senior field agent.

Cho forced himself to meet Lisbon's eyes. "That's not entirely true, boss. She also came down to hear a job offer."

"And just how do you know that?" Lisbon asked in surprise.

Cho finally looked away. "Gemma and I have been involved for about 7 months, now. We met for lunch, we went to my apartment. Those pictures of from today."

Lisbon waved away the apology. "What was she doing at your apartment?"

Cho actually looked embarrassed. Jane would have found it funny, if that nagging shard of terror wasn't lodged in his heart.

"Oh," Lisbon said, and blushed slightly. She took a deeper look at him. "This isn't your fault, Kimball," she said firmly but gently. Cho met her eyes.

"Why don't I believe that?" Cho asked, worried.

"Because you love her," Jane replied. "It's just the way it works. Lisbon is right, Cho. This isn't your fault, it isn't even mine. We can feel guilty all we want, but that doesn't change a damn thing."

Cho blinked. He hadn't expected a rational position from Jane in this situation, but he nodded. Pulling himself together, he forced himself to be the best agent he could be. Gemma needed him to be at his best, and the team needed him to be at his best today.

Cho gave a curt nod, and walked out. Lisbon turned to Jane, concern in her eyes. Jane smiled at her, knowing she saw the slight brittleness of it, but offering it anyway.

"We will find her, safe and sound," Lisbon promised, giving him a hopeful smile of her own. She lightly touched his upper arm. "We will."

"Right. Of course we will," Jane agreed, and Lisbon decided to ignore the faint hopelessness in his tone.

"You should believe what you told Cho," Lisbon pointed out.

"Oh, I do," Jane said. "Guilt and I, we are old acquaintances now. I know it's every permutation and flavor. But like I said, it doesn't change a damn thing."

Van Pelt knocked and opened the door. She sensed the intense atmosphere, but decided what she had was more important.

"I found her phone," Grace said, handing Lisbon a small piece of paper. "The signal is coming from that address. It's the law offices of Goddard, Thornton, Goldschmidt and Walter."

"Damn, those are some heavy hitters," Lisbon muttered, and led Jane to the car.

They pulled up to a large downtown office building, with full arched windows and screaming of money and privilege. Lisbon hesitated for just a moment before handing her keys to the valet. They walked into the building and approached a huge front desk, with a very pretty ash-blonde receptionist.

Patrick Jane just walked right up to the receptionist, and looked at her tasteful gold name badge. He pulled out one of his best charming smiles, and Lisbon rolled her eyes slightly as the woman nearly melted. "Hello, Amanda. Would you please let Harvey Walter know that Patrick Jane and Agent Teresa Lisbon of the CBI would like to see him?"

Amanda hesitated. "Do you have an appointment?"

Lisbon pulled out her badge, but Jane spoke again before she could. "No, but please tell him anyway. He will want to see us. Thank you, Amanda." Jane threw a little wink to Lisbon as Amanda did as he asked, and the small woman could only frown when they were escorted up.

Harvey Walter's office was huge and almost ostentatious, as befit a partner in such a large, powerful firm. Lisbon pulled Jane aside.

"Don't do or say anything stupid, Jane," Lisbon hissed in Jane's ear. "These guys are no one to pull your little stunts with. Powerful and rich only begins to describe them."

"Go right in, Mr. Jane. Mr. Walter's is expecting you," Walter's secretary said with a polished smile. Jane nodded in thanks and opened the door. Lisbon trailed along after him, feeling like she was missing something important and not liking it one bit.

"Hello, Harvey," Jane said with a wide smile, and held out his hand to the portly man with graying brown hair about Jane's age. He was exceptionally young to be a partner in a firm like this, Lisbon noted. That made her wary.

"Patrick, so nice to see you again!" Walter's welcome was jovial, and he not only took Jane's hand but enveloped him in a hug. "It's been far too long, my friend!"

Lisbon felt her jaw drop. Jane just chuckled and turned his friend to introduce her.

"Harvey, this is Agent Teresa Lisbon of the CBI," Jane said. "We just have a few questions, if you don't mind."

"No, I will help all I can," Harvey said, ushering them to a small seating area. "As much as I can, anyway. I have to leave to catch a flight to New York. You are lucky I'm still here, I was just about the leave. How can I help the CBI today? "

Lisbon pulled the cotton from around her head. "We are trying to determine who a woman named Gemma Patrick came to see today."

Walter blinked, and looked at Jane. "Gemma? Why me, of course. What is this all about?"

"What did she come in to discuss with you?" Lisbon asked, hiding her confusion on how the Gemma Patrick she had met in the middle of nowhere was connected to one of the most high powered attorneys in the state.

Walter looked at Jane without answering. Jane sighed. "It's ok, Harvey. Tell her."

"Ah," Walter said, but leaned back on his couch. "Well, she came in to make some changes to the Jane family trust."

Lisbon blinked. What the hell, she thought. "What kind of changes?"

"Nothing major, just some minor changes her accountant wanted for the taxes," Walter's explained.

She shook herself out of her surprise. "What time was her appointment?"

"1:30 this afternoon. She was about 20 minutes late, stayed for about an hour and half, then left," Walter replied as he stood up. "I'm sorry I have to cut this so short, but I do have a flight to catch."

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Walter," Lisbon said she also rose.

"Anytime, Agent Lisbon. Is Gemma alright?" Walter asked in concern.

"We are trying to find that out," Lisbon said, and the two left.

Once down in the main area again, they silently turned in their visitor badges and Lisbon went to have the valet bring the SUV around. Patrick was talking to Amanda again when Lisbon came back. He waved her over and had Amanda show him a cell phone.

"It's Gemma's," Jane said. "Where was it found, again, Amanda?"

"Just at the end of the circle leading back out to the street. One of the valets found it and brought it in," Amanda said, all but cooing at the attractively charming Jane. Lisbon suppressed an urge to smack the woman and began to examine the phone. She checked the last dialed numbers, found them uninteresting and put it in an evidence bag from her other pocket.

"We need to see your security chief," Lisbon said. She looked at Jane, and caught the worry in his eyes. This wasn't good.

"There!" Lisbon pointed out. "That's her blue truck."

They slowed the tape, and watched Gemma's blue truck ease to a stop as it prepared to turn into traffic, when a shadow darted up to the passenger side. They zoomed in, and saw what might have been a gun in the grainy picture and couldn't make much detail out of the face. There was a momentary pause, then the armed figure opened the passenger door and got in. A flash appeared out the driver's side as Gemma threw her cell phone onto the grass. The truck then drove off and out of view.

"Damn it," Lisbon said in defeat.


	7. Danger

**_Author's Note: Warning, there are some dark times ahead. Intense scenes and some scary places to go. I don't believe in age-appropriate censorship, but I do think you should be ready for what you read._**

**Chapter 7--Danger**

Gemma woke slowly, her head oddly fuzzy and slow. She forced her eyes open, only to have to screw them shut again at the painfully bright light shining in her face. Her shoulders ached, and she could feel the skin at her wrists going raw from some kind of plastic band, and her feet felt tied as well to a chair.

"Who are you?" she asked, her voice husky from thirst. She gasped in surprise at the sharp slap, tasted the coppery tang of her own blood as her lip was cut. She felt a harsh hand yank her long hair back and she struggled against the gag being forced in her mouth, but the strange weakness in her limbs hampered her. She started to rock in the chair, straining at her bonds, when she felt the blow to her stomach force out her air, and then she could only wheeze against the pain.

As she slumped, helpless, she felt a hand caress her face. When she tried to turn away, hard fingers gripped her chin and forced her still. Her vision was blurry, and she tried to make out details of the room, but the white hot light shining in her face prevented her from making out anything more than the shadow hurting her.

"Such a pretty thing," a muffled voice turned sick with desire and hatred murmured in her ear, and she could only shiver as those cruel fingers trailed down her chest and brushed her breast. "Let's show him."

The shadow left her, and suddenly something was thrust in her face. She tried to focus, and slowly realized it was a camera, and the shadow man appeared to be filming something.

Filming her.

"You are so very pretty," the shadow voice whispered, "I'd bet you'd be even prettier when you cry. Let's see if Kimball Cho would like your tears as much as I will."

Gemma felt cold, and felt a sickening lead weight in her stomach. She had felt fear before, but never the intense, mind numbing terror she felt when the shadow man started cutting off her shirt, leaving little stinging scratches in her golden skin. She swallowed a whimper, took a deep breath and started to blink frantically.

Her mind started to repeat the same names, over and over again. A mantra against hysteria and pain, her lifeline and soon, her only hope as a burning sting spread across her chest.

Cho. Jane. Lisbon.


	8. A Lead

**Chapter 8-A lead**

Lisbon and Jane walked back into the CBI offices, and everyone they passed knew something was terribly wrong. Jane was uncharacteristically silent and withdrawn, and Lisbon kept shooting him worried looks even as she was getting a report from Rigsby on her phone. Jane immediately sat on his couch and wasn't looking at anyone, and Cho immediately felt sick.

"What is it? What did you find?" Cho demanded, fear making him aggressive. His normally impassive expression had shifted to intense worry. Lisbon brushed off his question.

"I'll be right back, Cho," Lisbon said instead, and went into her boss' office.

"Sir, we have a situation developing," Lisbon said, keeping her voice calm and controlled for the sake of her team. She need to stay in command if this was going to work. "The Charlie Gitmore case."

Minelli put down his ever present coffee, and waited.

"He has made credible threats against Cho," Lisbon continued, her voice lowered with seriousness. "It now appears he may have abducted a woman named Gemma Patrick."

"Do we know who she is?" Minelli asked. "And why he took her?"

Lisbon took a deep breath and handed her boss two of the pictures. One was a shot of Cho and Gemma kissing in front of the restaurant, and the other was the threatening picture. "Rigsby just finished at the company that delivered those. The clerk picked Charlie Gitmore out as the one who sent them. He paid cash."

"I see," Minelli said as he put the pictures down. "Does Cho know yet?"

"He will," Lisbon said. Cho was far from stupid, and Jane's strange attitude would tell him more clearly than anything else.

"We have to take Agent Cho off this case," Minelli said heavily.

"I disagree, sir," Lisbon said. "Look, no one knows Charlie Gitmore case as well as he does. I need him on this."

"It's his girlfriend that has been taken by this nut job," Minelli replied. "He is compromised already. I can't let him stay on it, and you know it."

"Trust me, sir," Lisbon said. "I will keep a very close eye on him."

Minelli looked at Lisbon. She was his best agent, and her team the best in the state. She didn't run her team like other senior agents, and she was a lot more protective of them than others would be. But she got results and got them fast, and he was willing to let the Serious Crimes Division have a lot more leeway than usual.

"Alright, but you keep it under control," Minelli finally agreed. "And if this goes bad, it's on you. Am I understood?"

"Yes, sir," Lisbon replied, hiding her relief. She knew she should let Minelli take Cho off the case, and probably throw Jane off too, but she wouldn't do that to them. And if she was going to find Gitmore, she needed her entire team. She just hoped she wasn't making a mistake.

Cho, meanwhile, sat down in his chair, and put his head on his hands once he made the connection. He had to pull himself together. He was certain Lisbon was talking to Minelli, getting him pulled from this case and he didn't know how he would deal with that. Until this moment, he had been able to do his job with the cool precision he demanded of himself. Guilt was killing him slowly. It was his fault Gemma had been taken, and he knew it. Because of his job, of what he did for a living.

Because she loved him.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and looked up to see Jane's sympathetic blue eyes, tinted green in the light. Suddenly, he felt closer than ever to the man who had lived with this kind of soul-crushing guilt for years. He now understood so much more than he wanted to.

"How do you deal with it?" Cho asked quietly, knowing the other man would understand.

"One minute at a time," Jane said seriously. "But she isn't dead yet."

"And we are going to find her before that happens," Lisbon's warm voice had a thread of steel in it. "Cho, I've kept Minelli from removing you from this for now. But don't screw it up."

Cho felt relief go through him, and he nodded curtly to his boss. Jane squeezed his shoulder.

"What do we have?" Lisbon asked as Rigsby entered. Van Pelt looked up.

"I think I may have something," the red-haired woman said, trying to hide the hope in her voice. "I've been digging through Gitmore's financials. Nothing much, except I found two payments made to a Jose Chavez-Villa for the last two months. Villa's been in prison for three months on a drug charge. When I looked at his bank information, those two payments are the exact amount of Villa's mortgage."

"So Gitmore's been paying for this Jose Chavez-Villa's place," Jane said, meeting Lisbon's eyes as they reached the same conclusion.

"He's using Villa's place to hide out," Lisbon said. "Let's go."


	9. Salvation

**Chapter 9- Salvation**

The brown house was in a quiet, worn down neighborhood. It stood empty and slightly forlorn looking, but far enough away from the street to make it perfect for a quiet person to hide away with no one to notice for a while. The shades were drawn, and the lawn slightly unkempt.

The CBI agents parked just out of sight, and started to suit up in bulletproof vests and ready their guns. Jane nervously ran his hands down his vest before tucking his hands in his light grey suit coat pockets. This was always a nervous time for him, knowing they were risking their lives and there was nothing he could do to help. And always a nagging fear that maybe one of them wouldn't be coming back.

"Be careful," Jane said suddenly. The others looked at him in surprise, but nodded anyway. Lisbon's green eyes met his and he let himself be comforted by the cool confidence in her gaze. They trotted away, skulking to approach the house. Jane positioned himself safely away but where he could see. It was the only rule Lisbon never let him break, staying out of the line of fire on a home invasion. It was the only rule he was never tempted to break.

Lisbon stood with her back against the wall to the left of the front door.

"CBI! Open up!" Lisbon shouted to the seemingly empty house. She nodded at Cho after a moment of silence, and he reached out to try the handle. It was unlocked, so he mentally counted to three as his teammates readied themselves. Then he shoved the door open, swinging himself in with his gun ready.

Lisbon and Rigsby were and instant behind him, and then Van Pelt, as they fanned out.

"Clear!" Cho called from living room.

"Clear!" Rigsby called from a hallway leading into a kitchen.

"Clear!" Van Pelt called out from a dining area, then backed up a step to signal Lisbon.

Lisbon pointed and sent the two men down the longer hall to secure the bedrooms, approaching Van Pelt but not holstering her gun or entering the room until she hear the reassuring calls from her other agents. Cho came back and the two followed Van Pelt. Rigsby poked his head out the front door, letting Jane know it was safe to enter and then followed the others.

Van Pelt holstered her gun and was examining a computer set up on the table. A digital silver camcorder lay on its side, a cable connecting it to the computer. The red-haired agent hit a few keys, and the screen came to life.

When Jane entered, the men were searching through assorted papers found around the dining room, and Van Pelt working on the computer. Lisbon was on the phone, calling in forensics as she scanned the room herself. Rigsby held up a wallet that had Gitmore's ID in it, and Cho found a receipt for a gun issued under a false name. Lisbon gave a curt nod to both men, knowing that their suspect was definitely here at some point.

"Where the hell is he?" Lisbon muttered in irritation, and Jane threw her a smile that almost reached his eyes.

"Boss," Van Pelt called. "I found something."

The team approached and huddled around.

"It looks like he trying to edit a video from this camera," Van Pelt said. "I found the original file. No sound though."

The watched Gemma started to wake, tied to a chair. She blinked, a bright light in her face and was slow to focus her eyes. Jane jumped a little when she was slapped, and Cho's hands fisted when the gag was forced in her mouth. Cho's knuckles turned white when the masked man hit her in the stomach, leaving her gasping. Jane had to look away for a moment.

Lisbon and Van Pelt exchanged a quick look, and Lisbon swallowed against a suddenly dry throat. Rigsby swore under his breath. Cho's breathing got louder as the masked man started to cut her light blue shirt away, exposing skin and leaving little scratches that lightly beaded blood. Jane leaned in a little, intent.

"It's Gitmore," Cho said tightly. "That's his MO. Cutting away their clothes and leaving those little scratches. He would leave a deeper cut meant to scar on their right breast every time he raped them. One woman had thirteen."

The masked man moved behind the tied Gemma, and his knife started to flick along her bra shoulder strap. Gemma suddenly threw her head back forcefully, and the masked man yowled and jumped back when she struck him. He ripped off his mask, and was holding his nose. Blood gushed from between Charlie Gitmore's fingers.

He was a smallish man, with tiny hands and protruding eyes now tearing in pain at his broken nose. His flat brown hair was sparse and matted from the leather mask. He yelled something and gave Gemma a backhanded slap. Blood trickled from her own nose, and a bright red mark started to appear under her eye. She looked at her captor in defiance, still struggling to focus.

Gitmore leaned in close, waving the knife. Gemma suddenly lurched forward, making Gitmore jump back in fright. Gemma's brown eyes reflected her anger and scorn, and she suddenly started to shake a little.

"She's laughing at him," Rigsby breathed in awe. "She broke his nose, and now she's laughing at him!"

Van Pelt looked up at Cho, her light brown eyes catching his and she actually smiled at him. "That is some woman you found, Cho."

Her smiled wilted when Gitmore gathered himself, and struck Gemma again. This time the chair tilted to the side, and she winced in pain when her shoulder hit the floor. But her look of defiance never wavered. Gitmore's body blocked the camera and then there was only snow.

"Ok," Lisbon said, also impressed at the fierceness of Gemma Patrick. Most would have given into fear, and almost none in her situation would have found a way to strike out at their captor and would-be rapist. "That doesn't look like it was filmed here."

"She's drugged," Jane declared. "She had too much trouble focusing her eyes and she wasn't moving well, like she was weak. Van Pelt, go back to where he is cutting off her shirt. There is something there."

Van Pelt obediently started the movie over, and Jane had her run the shirt scene over three times before he leaned back and grinned in triumph, pointing.

"It's Morse code!" he said.

"What?" Lisbon said as Cho leaned in and studied the image.

"Her blinking. It's all wrong," Jane said, relief in his voice as he realized Gemma was talking to them. "It's Morse code, but I can't figure out where it starts. She and her best friends in high school started doing it to talk during class. She got detention for a month once her teachers figured it out." Jane almost laughed.

"I think I got it," Cho muttered, and took over Grace's chair. "She is saying….dock….truck….then just some random letters. I can't follow it."

"What letters?" Lisbon asked.

"P and G. V maybe, or a B. I can't tell," Cho replied.

Jane had been looking out the window, thinking. "S. It's the letter S!"

The other agents looked at him. Jane's smile was even wider with relief. "He forced her to drive to a dock of some kind, and she has a lojack locator in her truck! I think she threw her phone out of the truck on purpose, so we would know where she was taken from."

"A bread trail," Cho said, smiling in pride at her audacity.

"But she said GPS!" Lisbon said incredulously.

"She is drugged and beaten, Lisbon, and you are quibbling over a technicality!" Jane was almost bubbling, so even Lisbon couldn't take offense. She looked at Cho, who was already on his phone tracking down her truck information. Lisbon opened her own phone, and started issuing orders to the main office.

"The Gitmore family did used to be big into boats," Van Pelt offered. "His grandparents owned a marina by the river according to his file. There might be some empty boat houses or warehouses."

"Why does she have a lojack in her truck?" Rigsby asked. The others looked at him incredulously. "What? I'm just wondering. It's not like that old truck is high risk for being stolen."

Jane chuckled, and slapped Rigsby's back. "Her car was stolen in college. She's paranoid about it now!"

"Got it," Cho said. "They've activated the lojack signal."

Lisbon's phone suddenly rang, and they all watched her intently as she listened.

"Thanks," Lisbon said in relief. "They found her truck down by one of the old marinas, and Minelli has our back to search the place."

Gemma's dusty blue truck was parked behind an old, dilapidated building out of sight. There was a path to a series of broken docks, and they passed a sign saying the area had been sold to one of the larger, newer marinas up the river. A quick, discreet search revealed a single, tightly sealed steel door leading into the abandoned building with a very rusty lock. Lisbon sent the local cops back down the road to get them out of sight. Rigsby tried the door, to find it locked and secure. He looked at Lisbon, who then looked at Jane trailing behind them. Knowing the value of silence right now, Jane examined at the lock and shook his head.

"It won't open with a paperclip, which is all I have right now," Jane said softly.

"Wow, Patrick Jane can't do something today," Lisbon couldn't resist teasing. Jane actually smiled slightly at her, before he suddenly ran off.

"Jane. Jane! Get back here!" Lisbon hoarse whisper tried to stop him, but he only ignored her and slowly opened Gemma's truck door to prevent squeaks. She traded confused looks with her team as Jane rummaged around for a moment, then came trotting back with a small black roll.

Cho eyed it. "Is that what I think it is?" he asked as Jane unrolled it and revealed a few professionally maintained steel tools.

"No," Jane lied as he quickly picked out two, knelt and smoothly unlatched the lock. He let it open slowly, wincing with every groan as the old door swung open. Packing up the picks, he kept his distance as he trailed after his team.

It appeared to be an old warehouse, dusty with disuse. There were cracks and holes in the ceilings and the thin metal walls, allowing just enough light from the fading day to trickle in to see. The agents moved cautiously forward, guns ready. Cho was in front, at point, followed by Lisbon and Rigsby. Van Pelt brought up the rear, scanning behind them as they inched forward. Jane inched inside the door, knowing Lisbon wouldn't want him inside but unable to stay away today. He stayed quiet to not distract them.

Cho slowed, and then pointed to the right. Lisbon nodded, and they stalked their way to what appeared to be an office. A harsh white light spilled through windows grimy with age and dirt. The found the door ajar, and stayed low and hidden beneath a high counter that ran across the entire middle of the room. Cho and Rigsby moved to the far end of the room where there was a break that allowed someone access to the area behind the counter. Lisbon moved the other way to flank, and signaled Van Pelt to ready herself near the center. Lisbon peeked around the corner.

Gitmore stood shirtless over a makeshift pallet of old blankets. He held a short knife in one hand, and what looked like a gun tucked into the front of his belt. Lisbon could see a trail of old cigarette scars along his back and arms, mute testimony to the horror of the man's childhood, but she steeled herself against it. A miserable childhood was no excuse, she thought fiercely.

Gemma lay with her hands behind her back on the makeshift bed, clad only in her bra and jeans. The bra had one strap cut, and there was an angry bruise forming on her exposed cleavage on that side. She was staring up with anger and defiance, and only now a trace of fear, at Gitmore. She had old blood smeared on her face and a dozen faint scratches on her chest and a longer, slightly deeper one on her stomach that looked fresh. An impressive shiner marred the exotic beauty of her face, and her almond eyes flickered when she saw Lisbon's head appear. Gitmore started to turn, when Gemma suddenly tried to kick her captor in the groin, forcing Gitmore's attention to her again. The distraction was just long enough for Lisbon and the others to get into position.

"Freeze!" Lisbon called out as she and the others appeared, guns aimed and ready. Gitmore turned suddenly, and pulled his gun with a snarl.

Jane heard Lisbon yell, then the harsh sounds of gunfire, and saw the flashes in the office. He froze for a moment in the eerie silence that followed, then ran recklessly toward the room.

Once inside, the first thing he saw was Rigsby kneeling near Grace, who was sitting clutching her bleeding arm. Grace's face was blank with shock, and Rigsby was almost as white as he ripped her sleeve open to reveal the red trail of a gunshot wound. Jane's eyes scanned, and he let out an explosive breath when he saw Gemma struggling to sit up as Lisbon cut her wrists free.

Gitmore lay groaning on the ground, trembling as he clutched at his bleeding abdomen. His gun and knife had been kicked far from his reach, and Cho was glaring at the man as he covered him with his own gun. Once Gemma was free, she spotted Jane, struggled to her feet and stumbled to him. He wrapped her in a tight hug, kissing her hair as she hugged him with a cry of relief. He shrugged out of his grey coat and helped her into it, feeling her tremble.

"Get her out of here," Lisbon ordered Jane, and he pulled the dark woman away. She paused for a moment to meet Cho's eyes, and there was a warmth there no one could deny. Cho gave a small smile, his own dark eyes full of emotion.

Then he knelt to help Lisbon handcuff the wounded man, his world suddenly healed.


	10. Epilogue

**Chapter 10-Epilogue**

Kimball Cho stood staring into a hospital room. The raven-haired woman whose body he had loved just that day was resting on the bed, her eyes closed. She had showered by this point, and lay clutching a light grey suit coat she refused to be parted from. He felt a presence appear at his side, and knew without looking that it was a man with unruly blond curls and warm, haunted blue eyes.

"I can't do this to her again," Cho said.

"Not your choice to make," Jane replied, also gazing at the dozing woman who meant so much to both of them, in very different ways.

Cho looked at Jane, a little shocked. "You know what it's like for the wives of cops. The constant fear that we won't be coming back. After today, how can you want that for her? With me, she would be in danger, everyday. If not from psychos like Gitmore or Red John, then the fact that one day, it could me in there. Or worse."

Jane looked at Cho, and smiled slightly. He lightly touched the small scar at the edge of his left eye.

"Did I ever tell you how I got this scar?" Jane asked instead.

"No," Cho said, slightly confused. Jane looked back at the resting dark woman.

"When Sparky was 16, I told her she couldn't buy a car," Jane said. "I was trying to back out of a deal we had made, because one of her classmates had just been killed speeding. I was afraid for her. Afraid to lose her. I thought she'd understand, since her own mother died in a car accident."

Cho glanced at the taller man, listening.

"She didn't. She told me, right then, that it was her life, not mine, and that I needed to trust her to make her own choices, her own mistakes. But that she wasn't stupid, and I have to admit, even so young, Gemma was always wiser than I will ever be," Jane continued. "I didn't listen, and I made the mistake of forbidding her from buying a car."

Cho felt himself smile despite himself. "Didn't go over well, huh?"

Jane laughed a little. "No. She threw a vase at me. It shattered on the wall near my head. She missed on purpose, but she was a star softball player in high school for a reason. When it broke, one of the pieces cut me, right there. When my wife was cleaning me up, she slapped me on the back of the head for ruining my silk suit and told me that I couldn't go around making other people's decisions for them."

Jane looked firmly into Cho's eyes, then went into the room. Gemma smiled in welcome, and made room on the bed so Jane could sit and wrap his arms around her. Gemma leaned into Jane's embrace, and relaxed a little more.

Cho stared at them for a moment, before going in himself. Gemma's eyes reflected her relief at seeing him, and she held out her hand. Their fingers entwined and the last of Gemma's fear melted away.

"Gitmore is back in jail," Cho reported. "Forensics found a hole in the wall of that office with the tapes of his other attacks. He isn't ever getting out, fancy lawyer or not."

"Good," Jane said firmly. Gemma just smiled with her eyes closed, feeling safe and whole for the first time in a very long time.

Lisbon walked by, tired of watching Rigsby hover around Grace. Her arm had been grazed by Gitmore's bullet, but she would be fine. Jane had already told her that men dig scars, which drew a laugh from the tall, red head.

Looking in at the tableau in Gemma's hospital room, Lisbon felt a little ache in her chest. She could almost see the family bonds growing, as Gemma firmly held Cho's hand and was held in Jane's protective arms. Her own family had been shattered so long ago she barely remembered what it was like to be surrounded by that kind of love. The moment broke when Cho spotted his boss. He gave Gemma a quick kiss, and walked out to talk to her.

From the hospital bed, Gemma's dark gaze followed Cho and lingered on Lisbon. The small woman was cool and collected, but Gemma had caught the wistful look. It mirrored the yearning she had in her own heart for 5 years of lost family. She shifted, and looked up into Jane's eyes.

"What is it?" Jane asked, as she reached up and pushed one of his untamable curls behind his ear.

"There are all kinds of ways to move on, you know," Gemma said quietly, her gaze returning to Lisbon. Jane followed her gaze.

"I can't," Jane whispered. "I can't let anyone love me like that again. I can't lose them." His arms tightened around her.

"You nearly lost me today," Gemma pointed out. "And you survived it. You are stronger than you think."

"No, I'm not," Jane replied. Gemma heard the despairing fear in his voice.

"Well, maybe," she said. "But still. There are many ways to love, to heal, Patrick. Maybe you won't ever let anyone love you like they did, but that doesn't mean you can't love at all."

Jane didn't speak, thoughtful. Gemma took heart that he was at least listening. With a parting squeeze and kiss to her temple, he also went outside to Lisbon when Cho walked away with a wave to Gemma. The dark haired woman snuggled into her bed, the taste of her lover on her lips and the scent of her family in the coat she clutched, and started to drift to sleep.

Her last vision was of Patrick Jane reaching out to touch Teresa Lisbon's shoulder.

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Fin.

**_Author's Note: I hope you liked it._**


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